


in the dark i thought i saw you (i've learned to count on you)

by ellatrobbie



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, tw for assault, tw for creepy guys in bars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellatrobbie/pseuds/ellatrobbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, I think there’s a story behind a girl like you sitting at a bar alone.” //Also, Happy spends a lot of time complaining about a dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the dark i thought i saw you (i've learned to count on you)

**Author's Note:**

> a) I genuinely have no idea what this is. I got the idea, wrote it and (barely) edited it all in a few hours. I think my brain chose to focus on this as a means of procrastinating on something else I'm trying to write.  
> b) Seriously, I think I spent longer choosing a title than I did writing it.  
> c) I hope it was as much of a rollercoaster reading it as it was writing it  
> d) Can't quite decide whether it's post-kiss (on the assumption that they're both avoiding talking about it like the mature adults they are), or pre-kiss, or in some alternative universe where there is no kiss/episode 18.  
> e) I hope you like it. Whatever it is.

She’s sitting at the bar in a dress that makes her feel awkward and heels that make her unstable. She still didn’t understand why she couldn’t just wear her normal clothes, but Paige had insisted. She didn’t even want to be here, but everyone had insisted that this was important so here she was: waiting.

She’s nursing her beer, angled so that she can subtly scan most of the room without looking too obvious. It isn’t really her kind of place, more one of those bars that slowly turns into a club where the music keeps getting louder and the dresses keep getting shorter. Still, at least she doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb in combat boots. Paige was probably right about the dress. It’s getting busier, too. She takes another sip of her beer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to be creepy, but I saw you from over there and I just really wanted to talk to you,” he says suddenly, having walked up beside her when she wasn’t looking.

She turns her head, eyebrow raised. “Does that line usually work for you?” She eyes his casual T-shirt and jacket, and gets annoyed about her dress all over again.

“More hits than misses,” he shrugs before smiling at her. “You know, I think there’s a story behind a girl like you sitting at a bar alone.”

She gazes around the room for newcomers before looking back at him, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“Yeah?” He glances up and around, before nudging the stool next to her. “Mind if I wait with you?”

She sighs, if she didn’t know any better she’d tell him he was terrible at this. But still, she knew she had to make an effort tonight. “As long as you’re not annoying.”

He sits down before looking at her earnestly, “You won’t even know I’m here. I’m Toby, by the way.”

“Happy,” she replies.

“Really?” He asks, as if he’s just discovered something interesting, “Well, Happy, can I get you another drink.”

She looks at him, his crooked smile, before picking up her beer and waving it at him. “Ask me again when I’ve finished this one.”

He nods, accepting her answer.“So, let me guess: your friends insisted you come here tonight, to meet someone you’ve never met and probably won’t like.”

She rolls her eyes, he’s using this whole situation to his advantage and she wants to call him out on it. But he’s smirking at her like he knows her and something about it makes her let him.

“I don’t even know if he’ll show,” she shrugs. He’s looking out at the room now, scanning slowly. “Maybe he already has,” he muses before slowly dragging his gaze back to her. They lock eyes for a second, she can see a hint of recognition in his, and then she picks up her beer and drains it.

“Finally. So, what’ll it be?” He says, standing up from his stool to wave at the bar tender at the other end. “How about something stronger? My treat.” His tone has changed, no longer laid-back and flirty. She’s not sure if she likes it.

Biting her lip, she shakes her head. “No, I think I'll just head off.”

“What?” He looks down at her. “Come on, we were having such a good chat.”

“I’m going to leave now.” She stares at him, but he’s staring at back, his gaze harsher than she thought he was capable of.

“That’s it?” he scoffs, shaking his head at her, “Unbelievable.”

She decides to ignore him, gets off her stool but he grabs her wrist before she can take a step. “Let me _go_!” She’s prepared to swing at him with her other hand but suddenly someone steps between then, breaking his grip on her arm.

“Miss, is this guy bothering you?” The man’s voice is deep, it matches his towering frame.

“We’re fine, go mind your own business,” Toby snaps from behind him. She watches at the guy in front of her turns around, puts his hand against Toby’s chest until he steps back.

“Maybe you should mind your own. She’s obviously not interested, so move it.”

Toby glared at him, then looked at her. “Whatever,” he huffs, and shoves past her to go towards the bathrooms.

Happy takes a deep breath, trying to process what just went down. “Thanks,” she nods at the guy, who’s sort of staring at her. It’s a bit irksome, actually.

“You didn’t deserve that,” he says finally, “Some guys are just sick.”

She just nods, looks around the bar but she can't see him.

“Look, I don’t know if he’s gonna stick around or if he’s got a temper,” He continues. “I’d feel better if I know you got home safely tonight. Can I give you a lift? I’m parked right around the corner.”

She looks up at him. He doesn’t look threatening, but he’s tall so she’s not even sure if she could take him down. She can definitely try though, if she needs to.

“Yeah, okay,” she replies after a moment and pulls her bag across her shoulder. He gestures for her to walk first and she steps in front of him. 

* * *

 

“My car is just down here,” he says once they’ve left the bar and turned a corner. He’s leading her into an alley, as far as she can tell. She’s still walking in front of him, but she’s keeping track of his steps and the keys that are jingling in his hand. Suddenly the keys stop and between steps she hears something that sounds like liquid in a bottle. His pace quickens and she tenses, calculates the space that’s between them.

She waits for him to touch her shoulder before she slams an elbow back into his torso. He drops something, a cloth, as he steps back. He wasn’t expecting that, she can tell, but now he’s getting angry. He lunges at her again, manages to grab her arm but she kicks him in the shin. She could’ve done a better job in her boots, but he loosens his grip enough so she can punch him in the gut again. He falls, but manages to get a grip on her dress so he pulls her down with him. She falls down on her knee, for once not covered in denim because of her stupid dress. He reaches out at her, his fist colliding with her jaw. She rolls out of his reach, so she can get up before he can touch her again.

She’s just about to jump up when she hears a soft click. A gun. _How the hell did she not see that_ , she kicks herself.

“Get up! Fights over,” He snaps. He’s winded, probably not used to his victims putting up a fight like this. She lifts her hands from the ground, twists herself so she can turn to face the guy slowly. Before she can say anything, Toby runs out from the shadows, tackles the man to the ground.

She watches the gun fall from his hand, watches Toby punch the guy in the face as they wrestle on the ground. The man lands a punch on Toby and she finally pulls herself up, kicks the gun out of their reach and pulls the cuffs Cabe lent them out of her bag.

“Hey!” she calls out, the man turns towards her as Toby lands one last punch to his face. She rushes over, pulls the man onto his front as she cuffs his hands behind his back.

“You're right. The fight _is_ over.” She’s panting, finally realising how much her jaw and leg hurt. She looks over to Toby, who’s also breathing heavily. He’s staring at her, concerned, doesn’t say anything until she just nods at him. He exhales then, before putting a finger to his ear.

“We got him, he’s down.”

She counts maybe five deep breaths before there are sirens at the end of the alley and people running down towards them.

* * *

They’re back at the garage, on the couch; her leg is on his lap so he can clean the scrape on her knee. She’s still in that awful dress, with his jacket over it, because she hadn’t brought a change of clothes from home and she just wants to have a hot shower and crawl into bed. 

The creep of a man is in custody,  Walter and the others had gone to his house where they had found and rescued the other victims he’d abducted. She tries not to think about them, about how close she had been to meeting them tonight. 

Instead, she watches him work; he hasn’t said much since he checked all of her vitals and asked her what hurt and what didn’t. He has a bruise coming up on his jaw, and his knuckles but managed to catch the man off guard so he hadn’t been hit too hard. 

“Sorry, it took me so long. I only waited a minute, but you guys were already gone.” He looks genuinely apologetic and she’s torn between dismissing it and reminding him that he’d probably saved her life tonight. It was her idea, anyway, to be the bait. She knew it needed yo be done, and she's rather her than Paige.

She just shrugs, “Sicko works fast.” 

He doesn’t respond, and she waits a moment before speaking again. “How’d you know it would work? Your plan in the bar?” 

“The guy’s a classic psychopath, preys on women by pretending to be the good guy first. The deception makes it sweeter for him,” he says without looking up from her leg. His touch is light as he presses a bandage over her scrape, but he keeps his hand there as he looks over at her. “This should clear up quickly, but keep it clean. You’re not showing any signs of concussion but that bruise will stick around for a bit. Makes you look tough,” He adds, cracking a grin. 

She’s about to rolls her eyes, but his fingers move against her skin and instead her breath hitches. She jerks her leg off his lap and moves to stand up, “I’m going home to crash.” 

He looks up at her and she realises she’s still wearing his jacket; he’d given it to her at the scene, after the others had shown up. 

She’s about to pull it off but he stops her. “Keep it, I’ll get it back later.” 

She nods, grabbing her purse, and taking a few steps towards the door before she stops. 

“Hey Doc?” He’s putting away the first aid kit, and looks up at her. “Thanks for having my back. I owe you.” 

He smiles at her, and she almost expects him to make it into something suggestive. So she beats him to it. 

“Maybe I’ll let you get me that drink.” 

She sees his eyes widen before she turns and heads out, smirk playing on her lips.


End file.
